Playing With Fire
by Izobella Snow
Summary: It's funny how silence isn't in any way silent. There's always one noise or another. Whether it be the sound of a bullet echoing in your mind or the desperate screams in your memory. Silence just doesn't exist. A very different Twilight. Contains Mature Themes; Abuse, Sexual Content, Foul Language, etc. Do not read if easily offended or sensitive to any of those subjects. 17
1. Preface

**PREFACE**

The full moon is brighter this night than the night before. It glows over the city of Port Angeles, Washington, touching every available surface with its light. Everything in this city looks beautiful underneath its beams.

It shines stunningly off a petite girl's black hair. The light makes her skin look paler than it was each day before now. Tears stream from her brown eyes, glimmering in the bright moonlight. They roll quickly down her flushed cheeks. Her chest is rising and falling quickly from how hard she is trying to keep on. But her legs are becoming weaker with every step she takes.

She wears a flannel shirt, unbuttoned down the middle, revealing her modesty to all. Underwear is the only thing covering her womanhood as she stumbles through the streets. That thought sends another rush of tears from her eyes.

There is a cut on her forehead, right above a black whelp, and the blood gushes faster the more she exerts herself. It starts just below her hairline, and continues to the bottom of her eyebrow. Her inner thighs are bruised as well, and swollen to where they rub harshly together as she walks. 

She can't hear anything but the ringing in her ears, although there is a middle-aged woman right behind her, asking if she needs assistance. She just stumbles on, until a young man with blonde hair stops her, placing his hands on her shoulders. His blue eyes stare into hers, and his lips move. But the ringing screams over every sound he makes.

Brown eyes see the beautiful moon for only a moment before the girl's eyes roll back in her head. She falls limp in the boy's arms, and he yells for help.


	2. Chapter 1: Bang

**CHAPTER 1**

_"The beginning is always the hardest." I told the people staring at me. "They always tell you 'No clichés. Nothing too extravagant, but nothing too bland; you want to catch the reader's attention. You want them to read what you've written. Don't start with a question, and never use I, me, or my.' But weren't the rules made to be broken?" _

_The tearing of paper from a notebook could be heard where I was standing, but I just kept my face in my paper._

_"We've all cheated and lied. I cheated on my spelling test in third grade, and almost got caught. But I lied to get out of it." A giggle. "We wear white after Labor Day and we make jokes about things that ought not to be made fun of. And, although most of you would never admit it, I know, for a fact, that at least half of you have played with fire." My eyes flicker above my paper just a moment before searching for where I left off. "I used a calculator on my homework in sixth grade, even after my teacher told me not to, and I changed my answers in class when she called them out to get a better grade." A sigh._

_"In eighth grade, I stole a cookie from my friend's lunchbox, but told her that someone else did it. I wrote answers to a test, that I didn't have time to study for, on my arm freshman year. I've broken many rules and told many lies, but that doesn't make me a bad person, that makes me hum-"_

_Ring!_

_Everyone rose from their seats in front of me and I relaxed my shoulders, breathing a sigh of relief. I hated speeches._

_"Don't forget that everyone with the last names R to Z will finish presenting Monday. Take the time this weekend to study your presentations, maybe improve what you already have. Be safe, don't talk to strangers, say no to drugs. Dig it?" Mr. Walker asked the class._

_"Dug it." everyone hollered as they left the room.  
_

_"Your speech sounds wonderful so far Miss Swan. The beginning caught my attention right away, as always." Mr. Walker smiled. "Your parents will be proud when I tell them about it tonight. We're still on for dinner, of course?"_

_"Yes, Mr. Walker. My _mother and I_ will see you tonight." I spoke with emphasis and started to pack my belongings into my bag._

_"Oh, yes, of course." he mumbled, turning away from me with guilt in his eyes._

_Pulling up to the house in my clunking truck , I noticed how haphazardly my mother had parked the car today. She was always careful about that, always complaining about others who "can't park". I giggle to myself as I imagine her exasperated voice._

"Why do people get a damn driver's license if they don't want to drive correctly? Get off the road!"

_I tripped over the threshold into the front hall and rolled my eyes at myself._

Only me_, I thought._

_My bag created a loud thump when it hit the floor, and I cringed as it echoed through the house. I paused on the way to the kitchen, kissing the framed picture of my father, and staring into his paper eyes._

_"I miss you, daddy. So does mama." Charlie looked back at me, smiling. And I smiled back for a moment, wiping at my watery eyes, before continuing into the kitchen._

_It had only been a month since he had died, and I still was having a hard time getting used to his absence. When the officer came to our door with Charlie's hat and the news of his passing, I had clutched at my stomach before the floor fell from beneath me. I awoke in my bed the next day, a large bump on the back of my head and a massive headache keeping my eyes shut. _

_Renee tended to me all day, never letting on how she felt about the whole situation. She stared at me with empty eyes most of the day, and caressed my face whenever I cried. But she never showed any emotion whatsoever._

_She still didn't show me her emotions, but she couldn't escape it like I could. I had the woods behind my house, my room, even school and work. She had none of that. She hadn't had a job before he died, and she still was unwilling to work. Her room was a constant reminder of her dead husband. _

_She couldn't even look at _me_. _

_"You look so much like your father." she would say monotonously, before quickly leaving the room._

_I heard her at night, whimpering quietly, as I lay outside her door. I wanted to comfort her, but I knew that she needed time to be by herself. Sometimes I wanted comfort as well, but I knew how hard it was for her to be around me._

_A sudden bark brought me out of my thoughts, and I turned to see Jacob running down the stairs toward me. His tongue hung out of his mouth as he smiled at me, jumping up and putting his paws on my shoulders._

_"Hi baby boy." I smiled, and leant up to kiss his faded eye, and then his pale blue one. Jacob is blind in one eye, he has been since I found him. He was hiding under my car at a gas station. He was too tiny considering he was a St Bernard, and his eye was so swollen, it was closed. I begged my parents to let me have him. _

_They finally caved after I cried and clung to him when they tried to take him to the pound._

_I patted his head once more, before he jumped off of me, running toward the kitchen to get his dinner. His hip hit the wall, and a picture frame almost fell to the floor. Rolling my eyes, I followed after him. He might have been tiny and malnourished when we found him, but he is over half my height on all fours now._

_As Jacob ate, I stared around the kitchen, nibbling on my thumb nail. Something didn't seem right. The bright yellow walls yelled at me, and I squinted my eyes at them._

_After my father had died, my mom had repainted the kitchen. The god-awful yellow color was supposed to make us feel lighter._

_It only succeeded in making me want to puke._

_I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to calm the uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, and turned toward the hallway. With slow steps, I made my way toward the bottom of the steps and took a deep breath._

_"Hey mom? I'm home!" I holler up the stairs. No reply. I started upstairs, my heart beating quick. I shouldn't go up there. Something's wrong. _

_I knew she was there though. Her car was out front. _

She's just sleeping is all. That's all_..._

_My feet moved faster the closer I got to her door, until I was running. But I froze when I reached her door, my hand on the doorknob._

_I could hear her mumbling incoherently to herself in her room, and my shoulders sagged in relief. But that relief was short-lived when I heard a familiar click._

Charlie wrapped his arms around me after watching me struggle with the gun for at least a minute or two. His strong hands pulled back on the gun, cocking it quickly. _Click._

_I'd heard that click before._

I smiled up at my daddy before staring straight ahead at the target, placing my finger gently on the trigger.

"Remember, not too much pressure. You need to be able to hold your arms still, and hope you don't break your nose. I don't need another trip to the emergency room Bells." my father chuckled, and I heard my mother giggle. I shot her a glare over my shoulder, and she held her hands up in surrender.

_"Mama, NO!" I screamed, but the words came out slurred as I wiggled the locked door handle. Silence met my plea. _

"Pull the trigger sweetie." my dad whispered in my ear. I took a deep breath, welcoming the silence that suddenly enveloped me. My finger slowly tightened on the trigger.

_BANG!_

_A loud thud sounded in the room I was facing, and a deafening screech filled the house._

_The high pitched noise continued for a long while, before ending when I didn't have any more air._

_I was screaming._

_A loud ringing echoed in my mind as I backed away from the door. My body seemed out of my control as I repeatedly flung myself into the door. When the weak wood cracked, my body fell through the doorway, the rough edges of the broken wood cutting up my face and arms. But I didn't notice. I just noticed the blood. The deep, red blood. So much blood._

_So much blood._

I sit up quickly, the thin blanket falling from my torso. Goosebumps cover my skin as I try to control my rapid breathing. My hand flies to my brow, pressing down to reduce the ache there.

A groan comes from the girl next to me, and her cot squeaks as she turns over.

"Do you _ever_ sleep through the night, Swan?" she grumbles. I roll my eyes, and slowly make my way out into the hallway. I glare into the bright light on the ceiling.

_You try dealing with these nightmares every night._

I sigh, my feet squeaking softly on the clean wood floors. Linda looks up at me as I approach the table in the hall and I see her worriedly glance at Dr. Tibur's office before smiling brightly at me.

"Bathroom, hon?" Her soft voice echoes in the bright, empty room. I look over at the windows, noticing how dark it is outside, and nod silently. She's smiling sadly at me when I look back at her. She stands from her seat and unclips her keys from her belt loop. The silver metal clinks loudly as she moves toward the bathroom door.

I follow quietly behind her. As we pass Dr. Tibur's office, I hear him softly murmuring. There is no response that I can hear, so I assume he's on the phone. After Linda unlocks the door and searches the bathroom for anything suspicious, I smile at her softly and make my way slowly into the bright white room.

The shower curtain flutters when the heavy door shuts behind me. I open it like I always do, and relax a small amount when I see the shower stall is empty. I slowly drag my feet toward the toilet and squat above the seat, not trusting that the cleaning crew washed away all that there was on the toilet seat.

After finishing my much needed business, I step over to the automatic sink and wash my hands carefully, scrubbing under my barely-there fingernails. The cold water soothes my weak fingers, so I gather a small amount to rub on my face. I rub the scar that stretches from my forehead, cutting my eyebrow in half, and stare at the person before me.

I watch the drops of water roll slowly down my face, dropping off of my chin, onto my continuously growing breasts. I glare at them as they move up and down with my breaths, and then sigh when I realize that hating my changing body won't change anything. Nothing will change now. I won't kill her. I can't.

My hands move down my body, resting on my breasts, then slowly continuing down to my protruding stomach. I turn to the side and notice that it seems to have grown overnight. I poke my hardening belly button and feel a small nudge back. I smile and run my hands around my stomach.

"I know sweetie." I mumble to my stomach. "I love you too."


	3. Chapter 2: Distress

**CHAPTER 2**

As I make my way slowly back through the long hallway, I once again pass Dr. Tibur's office. But I halt quickly when I hear my name.

"-la Swan needs a proper home. I know-" he sighs. "-I know that you already have so many children. But you're the only person I could think of, Carlisle. You're the kindest person I know. And I know that- _Let me finish, please_!" I jump when he raises his voice, and look up at Linda. Her blonde hair acts as a curtain between us as she works on paperwork, so hopefully she won't notice me for a little while. "I know that you have a lot on your plate. You're a doctor, you're a husband, and you already have five children." Five kids? Fucker must be crazy. I don't think I could ever have five kids.

My hand instinctively rests on my protruding stomach, and I rub slow, soothing circles around my belly button. She nudges me back. I smile.

"But Emmett, Rosalie, and Jasper are going to be graduating this year. They'll become individuals, they'll go to college, with scholarships no doubt, and you'll have plenty of money to take care of Isabella." I glare at the small sliver of light underneath the door when I realize that he's trying to pawn me off on someone else. I shouldn't be surprised though; my insurance stopped paying for me to be here almost a week ago. So, now that they're not getting money from me, they want me gone.

There is a long pause in the room before Tibur sighs. "Thank you Carlisle. Thank you so much. We'll set up a meeting for you to come down tomorrow to see her. Are you bringing all of the children with you? Or just you and Esme?" Another pause. "Alright, well, I think at first just Esme and yourself should see her. She's quite fragile... And... Well... You might be surprised when you see her. She's..." He stumbles over his words for a few moments. "She's going to be a Junior in high school, and 17 weeks pregnant."

I flinch at the malice I can hear in his voice. It's not like I chose this. She nudges my hand again and I sigh before continuing my rubbing.

I've heard enough of the one sided conversation. I slowly waddle my way back to my room as he starts talking about my prenatal medications, and mumble a "goodnight" to Linda.

As I rest on my uncomfortable bedding, I let my mind wander. I try to imagine what my life would have been if things hadn't played out like they did. I'm sure my mother and father would be comfortable in bed, cuddling. I would be snuggled under my covers with Jacob right next to me. Such a bed hog he was, but I sure do miss sleeping next to him.

With thoughts of Jake in my mind, I slowly drift off, my hand still resting on my stomach.

I stumble my way through the halls hours later with Faith, the day-nurse. Linda had gone home earlier this morning, and I had hugged her tightly, knowing that was the last time I would see her. She didn't speak, and so neither did I. We just held each other for a moment before she released me and walked out the door at the end of the hallway, locking it once she was on the other side.

As we climb the steps to the visiting rooms, my heart starts to beat wildly and she starts to kick a little harder than usual. I press against my belly button gently, and she pushes back.

The doctor said that she can sense my distress, that she can tell when I'm happy or sad. And he said that I shouldn't worry about her moving too much. He said that it's a really good sign.

"She's a kicker for sure," he told me the last time I'd seen him.

I stop behind Faith when she suddenly halts, gasping quietly. I look up from my feet to look at her and notice her staring across the hall. I follow her gaze and my breath catches at the sight before me. Two absolutely beautiful people stand before us, one man and one woman.

The man is tall, with broad shoulders and bleach blonde hair. His golden eyes stare straight into mine and his long lashes flutter across his cheeks every time he blinks. His thick eyebrows are pleasantly raised as he flashes me his pure white teeth. His smile grows, the pale pink of his lower lip stretching tighter.

The woman behind him stands at least a foot shorter. Her perfectly sculpted cheeks wrinkle when she smiles at me, her ruby red lips curling softly. Her hair reaches just below her chest, softly curling in at the end, a strange brown color, tinted red. I look at her curiously when I notice the same golden hue in her eyes.

My eyebrows furrow. They don't look at all alike. They couldn't be related, but their eyes tell a different story.

I can't help but feel hypnotized as I stare into their eyes, the soft topaz color soothing me. My hand unconsciously caresses my belly when she pushes at my belly button. I smile timidly at them, and the short woman smiles widely back at me.

Faith, seeming to have gathered her wits, steps forward, thrusting out her left hand while her right cradles the seemingly endless amount of paperwork to her chest.

"Hello Mr. and Mrs. Cullen, Welcome to Western State Hospital. My name is Faith Wood. I'm going to be overseeing your meeting with Miss Swan today, and if all goes well, I will be handling her discharge." Faith's arm tenses immediately after grabbing hold of Mr. Cullen's hand and her mouth pops open in surprise. "Oh, my! You're freezing!" she yelps. "Let's go into the back room; the sun shines through those windows, so I'm sure it will be warmer. It is quite chilly out here."

Once she shakes Mrs. Cullen's hand, Faith pulls her hand away quickly. She rubs her hand against her thigh and fingering her wedding band, something I only noticed her doing when she was uncomfortable.

"Well..." An awkward pause. "Um... This is Isabella Swan. Isabella, this is Esme and Carlisle Cullen." I nod at them, forcing my hand out in front of me. The first touch of Esme's hand had me recoiling from her touch.

"Jesus, you're cold." I blurt out. Blush creeps slowly up to my cheeks, spreading across my nose and forehead. Esme's hand comes up to cover her smile. "Sorry." I stick my hand out hesitantly this time, preparing myself for the chill that comes from her. Goosebumps cover my skin when I grab Carlisle's hand; he seems even colder than she is.

After a short time, Faith seems to realize that standing here isn't getting anything done.

"Well, this way." She leads us quickly down the hallway, taking a left at the end and stopping at the first door.

I'd only seen the visiting rooms once. When I was admitted, they took me into the visiting rooms for some privacy. They didn't think it was a very good idea to have me around all the other girls yet; I was a "danger to others". Yeah right. When someone's trying to fucking hurt you, you fight back.

_"Get off your fucking ass, Swan! That bathroom isn't gonna fucking clean itself!" James yelled loudly at me. I glared up at him, my hands clenching at my sides. When he noticed I hadn't moved yet, he growled. "I suggest you get your _skank-ass_ in that bathroom, Isabella. _Now._" He was yelling by the time he finished, but I could still hear Victoria snorting at another line in the kitchen. I grimaced._

_"No." I stared into his eyes intensely, saying the words as firmly as I could._

_Big mistake._

_Rage flamed in James' dark blue eyes as he stalked over to me. I scuttled backwards on the floor, trying to put some distance between us. He reached down at me quickly, stopping my movement. His fist gripped tightly onto my hair and I cried out and grabbled at his arm when he pulled me up on my tiptoes. His frame started to blur as tears gathered in my eyes. The fogged image of him sneered at me, coming closer until I could smell the cigarettes on his breath._

_"I know you didn't mean that Isabella. So I'm going to give you one last chance to do what I fucking told you. I own you. You do what_ I_ want." His yellow teeth snapped shut at the end, and his eyes softened. His grip on my hair loosened, and he let me back down to the floor. I whimpered when I was free from his hold and flinched when he brushed my hair out of my eyes. His hot breath moved across my cheek toward my ear. "I love you baby girl. So much." His lips touched my neck and I recoiled. He laughed menacingly and gripped my upper arms tightly. "You're _mine._"_

_I pulled my arms from his hold roughly._

_"You're my foster father. That doesn't make me _yours_ asshole." The flame returned with my words, and I almost regretted them. But I couldn't. I couldn't let him break me completely. He could hurt me all he wanted, but my will was one thing he couldn't take away from me._

_"You little bitch. This is my house, and you will do what I want. And if you won't do it willingly, I guess I'll have to force you." His hand clamped down on my shoulder, pushing me toward the door. I struggled to escape him, but he just held tighter._

_"James, you're hurting me!" I yelp loudly, hoping that I could convince him to let me go. "I swear, I'll clean the bathroom, just please let go!" I heard a snort come from the archway between the kitchen and living room. Victoria stood there with a cigarette between her middle and fore fingers, her green eyes dilated. Her fiery red hair stood up at odd angles, a large amount of it up on the top of her head in a bun. _

_"Sweetie, apologizing to him after you pissed him off is a waste of time." She took a pull from the white stick, breathing deeply before letting go. The smokes came out with her words. "Just take your punishment. It'll be over before you know it." She turned back to the kitchen, sniffling._

_James pushed me toward the bathroom door roughly, grunting with the force of his shoves._

_Despite what Victoria said, I still struggled against him, wrapping my arms around my little belly bump, trying to protect it from the violence surrounding me._

_I feel a sharp sting across my face and turn to stare at James in shock._

_He slapped me._

_James had always yelled at me, called me foul names, even pushed me around. But he'd never hit me before._

_I stare at him for a moment before jerking my knee upward, hitting his most precious tool. His eyes widened and he howled pain, dropping to his knees before me. I backed away, one hand on the sore side of my face, the other laying against my belly button._

_Victoria slowly came around the corner, leaning against the wall. Her left hand gripped a beer tightly. The brown color greatly contrasted the sparkly white of her wedding ring. I wonder if James stole that for her. She looked at us for a moment before giggling._

_"Does it hurt baby?" She winks at James, tilting the bottle back until all of its contents flow into her mouth._

I'm brought out of my memories when I hear the familiar jingle of Faith's keys as she opens the locked visiting room door. Inside the room, there is a long table with two chairs on each side, and one on each end. Faith guides me to the farthest side of the table with a hand on my back. She sits beside me in the black leather seat, sitting with her legs crossed and hands folded on her lap.

I suddenly feel someone's eyes on me and look up to Mrs. Cullen following my every move. I fidget nervously under her gaze. One of my hands grip the seat while the other lays atop my bulging midsection. I see Esme's eyes fly to my stomach and hunch over, trying to shield her from Esme's penetrating gaze.

Her eyebrows furrow, and her eyes pierce mine. They widen slightly when she notices my glare.

"First off, I will tell you that you have every right to ask Isabella any question you would like." Faith's hand rests on my arm when I huff. "But Isabella also has every right to stay quiet. She doesn't have to answer _any_ of the questions you ask. And vice-versa." She looks back and forth between the beautiful couple and myself, checking to see that we understand. I nod my head cautiously, glancing up to see them nodding as well.

And so it begins.


	4. Chapter 3: Six

**CHAPTER 3**

I stare openly at the Cullen couple as they scan through my file that Faith had so _graciously_ given them. I shift uncomfortably, thinking of all the things these strangers will see on those pieces of paper.

I lean close to Faith's ear, turning away from Esme and Carlisle to whisper softly.

"What... exactly... is on my file?" I question quietly. She pulls away to look at me, her eyes flickering back and forth between my own.

"Only the things you've reported." She mumbles. My body relaxes at this news. The only things that will be on there then are that my father died, my mother committed suicide, and that I had an abusive foster family before I came here.

"You're 16, Isabella?" The soft silk of Mrs. Cullen's voice stuns me for a moment before I nod softly. I see her once again glance down at my stomach and narrow my eyes at her.

"It's not like I asked for it, you know." I snap at Esme, my throat tight with tears. She looks back at me quickly, her head shaking fervently.

"Of course not dear... I was only wondering how you plan to handle two - possibly six - more years of school with a child." The soft honesty in her voice makes me relax a small amount, feeling foolish for my sudden outburst.

"I'm not sure yet," I murmur. "But I know I don't want to give her up. I've been in a foster home before, and I would never wish that on anyone..." I look down to hide my blush, picking at my sore nail beds.

Carlisle hums quietly, his eyes still skimming over my file. The way he looks at the page makes me think he's not even actually reading it; his eyes move much too fast. I look back at Esme to see her staring at the page as well.

"Oh!" I jump at her exclamation. "Your birthday is next month! I love birthdays!" Her whole face is lit up when she looks up at me again, practically jumping in her seat. Carlisle laughs.

"Calm yourself dear, you're acting like Alice." She smiles sheepishly at him when he leans in to kiss her temple softly.

"Alice...?" I asked timidly, rubbing my belly furiously.

"Yes, Alice is our daughter. She's quite a hyper little sprite." Mr. Cullen smiles fondly at the thought of their child, before looking back up at me and pushing the file back toward Faith. "We have five wonderful children; Alice, Rosalie, Emmett, Jasper, and Edward. And, if you'd like... you can make that six." I stare at him for a moment, dumbfounded that he would want a pregnant 16 year old as his daughter. A 16 year old he had no responsibility to claim.

I turn to look at Esme, trying to avoid the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"What was it like? Childbirth, I mean. I've never heard it from someone who actually has children, aside from my mother. But she always over exaggerated everything; she told me that I about ripped her in two. And I definitely don't want to feel like I'm being ripped in two when I have her. I mean, the epidural helps with that, right? But still, the whole idea of having a football come out of a, like, two inch hole is pretty disconcerting." I stop speaking when I realize my rambling has taken an inappropriate turn, biting my lip as blush floods my face once again. Carlisle chuckles quietly, his shoulders moving, and Esme smiles fondly at me.

"I wouldn't know; I've never given birth before, sweetie. We adopted all of our children... I can't have children." Her voice catches at the end, and I see her eyes flutter. Fuck.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know." I apologize profusely, reaching across the table to grab her hand. I pull up short, though, when my stomach presses uncomfortably against the table, and she kicks at my abdomen wildly. "Oh!" I gasp, pressing my hand against her kicks.

"Is she moving?" Esme wonders, staring intently at my hand. I see her fingers twitch on the table, inching toward me. I glare at her hand.

"Yes," I grunt. "She's moving like crazy. She always does."

"And you're only 17 weeks?" Carlisle inquires.

"Almost 18." I mumble, still stroking my belly button. "The doctor said that it's a really good sign that I can feel her moving so much."

"That it is. Fetal movement is usually pretty subtle at this stage of the pregnancy. But her constant kicking is a sign that she's developing remarkably well." My brows furrow at him, and he continues after noticing my confused look. "I'm a doctor at the hospital where I live."

"The best one they have." Esme's face is shining with pride as she stares at her husband.

"How _old_ are you? You look so young; too young to be a doctor." I shake my head at him disbelievingly.

"I'm 32," Carlisle looks at me evenly, his lips twitching upward when my mouth pops open.

"No way in hell. You _have_ to be, like, 20 or something. There's no _way_ you're that old." Mr. Cullen chuckles at me.

"Are you calling me old, Miss Swan?" I stare at him, speechless for a breath, before he puts his hand over his heart and wipes at his eyes dramatically. "I'm wounded."

For a moment, I'm astounded at his humor; I haven't even heard a joke since I was admitted. But, for the first time during this meeting, I smile, and I laugh.

And it feels so good.

The laughter starts out as a small giggle, soon turning into a loud chortle, which I try to stifle with my hand. But a snort sneaks its way out of my mouth, making me laugh harder.

After a few attempts to calm down, I finally collect myself, and wipe at my damp eyes.

"I'm so sorry... I just.. I haven't laughed in a long time... It felt good." I grimace self-consciously, glancing up at the couple across from me. Mrs. Cullen smiles at me kindly, but says nothing. Carlisle, on the other hand, is staring at me intently. I grow even more timid under his gaze and turn to Faith for a reprieve, but quickly look down at the table when I realize she is staring at me like I've grown a second head. "I'm sorry." I mumble again, returning my attention to my red nail beds, knowing that they must think me completely insane now.

After an awkward quiet, Mr. Cullen clears his throat.

"I think, if you'd like, I should introduce you to our other children? They've been waiting patiently, and I would like you to meet them." His soft voice makes me feel less insecure, but his words bewilder me.

He still wants me?

I am silent for a breath, ordering my thoughts.

Do I want to meet them?

I don't know. I honestly don't.

But I also don't know how much longer I can stay at this _damn_ hospital. Doing what I'm told, when I'm told, and how I'm told. I never get a moment for me, for her.

"I just... Have one question." I speak softly, unsure of myself.

"Yes, dear?" Mrs. Cullen, the never-ending delicateness of her voice wrapping around me.

"Why? Why do you want _me_? I'm 16, I'm pregnant, and I'm probably more fucked up than any of your other children; excuse my French." I add as an afterthought. "And I want a real answer to this. None of that 'we just want to give children homes' crap, because if that was the case, I'm sure you could find a better child than myself. So, honest to God answer; why do you want me?" I look at them calmly, taking in their set posture.

As they mull over my question, I look them over again, noticing now how proper they look. Although their clothing isn't exactly "formal", it surely looks that way on their beautiful bodies. Carlisle's navy blue sweater is bunched up to his elbows, showing off the light smattering of hair on his arms and a thick, silver bracelet on his wrist. I narrow my eyes at it, trying to make out the oblong symbol etched into the metal, but give up when I fail to figure out the emblem.

I look toward Esme, who is looking into her husbands eyes keenly. Her frilly purple blouse clings to her body softly, but modestly. It curls around her collarbone gently, revealing a soft silver locket. After a moment, I recognize the design as the same one engraved in the bracelet on Carlisle's wrist.

Having a better angle to see Esme's locket, I finally am able to make out the shapes carved into the metal. A cat-like creature stands on its hind legs, its tongue flicking at the air around itself. An open palm hangs above the animal's head, and three three-leaf clovers spread out below it.

I return to the present when Mrs. Cullen finally speaks.

"We want to save you. It's as easy as that." My eyes drift from her necklace toward hers, and my eyebrows furrow.

"Save me?" I inquire, crossing my arms over my bulging stomach.

"Yes," Mr. Cullen reaffirms. "Save you... There are so many children out there, who have been through horrible things. And yes, we would love if we could save them all. But, you need saving Isabella, more than most people I know. And you're right here in front of us dear." He grabs Esme's hand and links their fingers on the table. "If we could be involved in your recovery from your disheartened state, then we will take the risks that come along with being a part of that."

The walls around me crack when Carlisle finishes his explanation, and I stare at him silently for a moment before nodding.

"I'd like to meet your children." I say decidedly. "And you can call me Bella."


	5. Chapter 4: The Inept Elephant

**CHAPTER 4**

Mr. Cullen's smile was blinding, as well as contagious. My lips curled upward as he stood, holding his hand out toward me. I hesitated briefly before grasping his hand tightly as I stood, but I let go soon after I was upright.

I don't like physical contact. Not anymore, at least.

"Oh, Bella, you will just _love_ them. They're such wonderful children." Mrs. Cullen spoke softly next to her husband, clutching his bicep between her hands.

"I'm sure I will, Mrs. Cullen." I smile shyly up at her, my hands wrapped around my belly delicately.

"Esme, dear. Call me Esme. And Carlisle." She grins widely when I nod, before turning toward the door.

I walk slowly around the corner, careful not to trip on the air like usual. I jump when I feel Carlisle's cold hand on my back. My entire body is stiff as he leads me toward the suddenly intimidating door at the end of the hall. My stomach twists with the knob as his white hand turns it. It clicks, and the door seems to open in slow motion.

I know people say that all the time in books and shit, but this is fucking real.

As soon as the door creaks open, an abrupt calm washes over me. After a moment, I realize that this is the kind of calm you force yourself to feel. The kind with an underlying sense of worry or anger. But I can't stop it from taking over my body, and I smile widely when I see the open room.

I had walked through these halls day after day for almost two months now, but I have never been so close to the outside as I am now. And I can't help the sudden stutter of my heart as she kicks at my ribs.

The bright, natural light filtering in through the windows blinds me for a moment before I am able to take in the large, rather empty, room. The walls are a "soothing" blue, and the carpet sinks beneath my feet, feeling quite different than the hard wood from my unit.

But what really catches my attention is the group of beautiful people sitting before me.

You know how when you stare a picture of someone like Emma Watson or Chad Michael Murray and - although those people really are beautiful - you can just _tell _that the picture is photoshopped?

Well, that isn't the case here. These people are... Stunning. There is no way to photo-shop them into perfection; they already _are_ perfection.

The first person I notice is the shapely woman with tidy blonde curls cascading down her back and a tight braid across the top of her forehead. Her hands are gripped by a large man's fingers, whose black hair is cut short on his head. His tight shirt shows off his bulging muscles and broad shoulders. He seems twice the blonde's size, but I'm sure her deathtrap heels make up for their height difference.

My eyes move slowly toward a small girl with short, shaggy hair. She makes the cropped cut look elegant with a small bow clipped in next to her ear, perfect eyebrows, and blood red lips. Behind her, a tall man stands with his hands around her midsection, pulling her back into him and holding to her like a lifeline. His face is emotionless, and his curled blonde hair falls into his detached eyes.

They're all such beautiful creatures, and I'm astounded that they aren't even the slightest bit linked to one another. But one thing that causes my mind to buzz with confusion is their eyes; they're all the same. They all have the amber irises that I'd seen on Carlisle and Esme earlier.

All but one.

His green eyes penetrate my own when they land on him, making me feel naked. His copper locks stick up at odd angles and the strands that hang over his eyes catch on his eyelashes when he blinks. The stubble on his chin is a little lighter than that of the hair on his head, and it looks so soft and alluring.

I want to touch it.

The beautiful skin of his cheekbones turns pink after a long moment of me staring at him, and I bite my lip to keep my smile at bay. It's nice to have another blushing body around here.

He's not stunningly beautiful like the others. He's beautiful in a whole other way, a more natural way. His siblings look too perfect, a kind of perfection that leaves no room for gentle beauty. But this boy sitting before me, he has such a humane elegance about him that I can't help but just stare.

And stare.

His thick, brown sweater is zipped up to his chest, the collar sticking up about his neck. His long fingers run through his auburn locks, tugging lightly. He wears a muted gray t-shirt and regular blue jeans under his heavy jacket, and I can't help but smile when I see the rattiest, dirtiest pair of black converse on his feet.

I look back up at his face when I see his fingers grip his jumping knee tightly.

He's staring at my stomach.

My face floods red, and I wrap my arms around my torso, turning back to Faith, Esme, and Carlisle.

Faith is staring at me cautiously, as if waiting for me to run screaming. And I almost want to. But that evil calm is still radiating through my body, not allowing me to react with anything but a minute smile.

Esme clears her throat and my eyes snap to her.

"Children, this is Bella." Her eyes sweep over her children, lingering briefly on the redheaded boy in the corner. He looks up at her, then back down at his torn shoes, shuffling them back and forth on the squishy carpet.

"Isabella, these are our children Rosalie, Emmett, Alice, Jasper, and Edward." Her voice softens a great deal as she gestures to each of her children in kind. My ears ring with the last name she spoke, and I look toward him with curious eyes.

He's staring right back at me.

I look down at my stomach when she nudges me and blush.

"Isabella!" A booming voice echoes through the _room_ and I jump in surprise. I look up, searching for the body the voice belongs to, and see Emmett advancing toward me quickly.

I tense up, my eyes wide, when his rock hard arms wrap around my shoulders tightly. My hands linger protectively on my stomach as my face is shoved into his cold chest. I am befuddled for a moment, but then that fabricated calm washes over me again, and I melt into his arms. The strong musky smell of him makes my rigid body loosen and my hands slowly travel up his torso to his chest. I push gently on the cold boulder of a man and he releases my shoulders, leaning back to reveal dimpled cheeks and sparkling golden eyes.

I push on his chest again, and he finally releases me. My eyes are wide, rejecting the calm, but soon I can't help but feel at ease in this giant's presence.

"Jesus, Emmett. You're gonna give her a heart attack." The stunning blonde, Rosalie, spoke quietly, her eloquent voice not what I was expecting from such a beauty. She stands, towering over me in all her pale, blonde glory and offers her hand. I grasp her cold palm softly, but pull away quickly. She smirks dubiously. "Excuse the great ape." Her manicured nails scratch his head and she yanks him down for a peck on the lips. "I haven't finished his training yet." He scoffs and follows her back to the plush chairs they had adorned before.

"As if you could train me babe." His bulging arm rests on the back of her seat and his large hand holds her tight at his side. "I totally wear the pants." She bristles at his statement, but doesn't speak.

The annoyance I see in her eyes makes me uncomfortable and I avert my eyes toward the small pixie and the blonde male behind her. I struggle to remember their names, but give up after fumbling around in my cluttered mind unsuccessfully. My feet slowly shuffle forward and my arm extends toward them when a sudden bout of confidence rushes through me.

My fingers tremble as I wait for the small girl's hand to wrap around my own, but she just laughs, a high-pitched tinkling that gives me goose bumps. She ignores my hand and wraps her arms around my midsection gently.

"Bella," she whispers in my ear and I shiver at her cold breath. But the faux calm is back and I feel compelled to wrap my arms around her tightly. The affection is oddly comforting, and I shiver again. This time, not from the cold, but from the odd content feeling coursing through my veins.

I look over her shoulder at the blonde man to see him staring at me intensely, his brow furrowed painfully. He nods his head once at me. I nod back before the small girl releases me, skipping back over to him.

I look toward the last Cullen child and wait to be greeted. I'm let down when I see him glaring at his god-awful shoes as if they have offended him. I hesitantly shuffle over toward him.

"Your shoe is untied." I state dumbly as I plop down in the seat next to him, my hands on my beetle belly.

His pursed lips curl up on one side and he nods. His eyes soften as he continues staring at the untied shoe.

"I broke my arm once, because I didn't tie my shoe when my mama told me to." My voice is just a whisper in the end, and I caress my stomach delicately. I rarely speak of my mother, and it makes my heart ache to think of her absence in my life now. I look down at my abdomen, and will the wetness in my eyes away. "I'm pretty sure though that even if my shoe had been tied, I still would have managed to break my arm; I'm so clumsy." He stays quiet, and I shift awkwardly in my seat.

"Good to know." I startle when I hear his solid, yet delicate voice murmur. I look up to see his toothy lopsided grin grow and feel my own lips curving upward.

"I just figured I'd let you know," I lean back in the cushioned chair. "so that you know to steer clear of the inept elephant." My words stab at my confidence, but when I hear a small snort come from his lips, the pain leaves me quickly.

"Inept elephant?" His jade eyes lock with mine as I nod, keeping my face serious.

"I'll probably be able to take out an entire army in four months." I pat my abdomen softly and widen my eyes innocently, seriously. "I fell down once, and you know what happened?" He smirks, his eyes narrowing.

"What?" His voice is soft. I lean closer to him, curling my finger for him to come closer. He leans over hesitantly. His piquant scent distracts me for a moment before I gather myself.

"The continental divide." A loud chortle sounds from across the room. I look back to see Emmett's shoulders shaking.

"Can we keep her, pops?" He directs the question toward Carlisle, still looking at me.

"Oh, I suppose." I look at Carlisle, and my heart beats faster at the thought of leaving this wretched place with these beautiful people.

I shake at the prospect of escaping this place before the phony calm pulses through me once again. When I look toward Edward again his green eyes are set with a tinge of curiosity, and his head is tilted softly to the side. He searches my eyes silently for a breath, then puts forth his hand.

"I'm Edward." I carefully place my hand in his, melting at the warmth culminating there.

"Bella." I speak quietly, his eyes completely captivating me.

"Well, Bella," He doesn't shake my hand, just holds it in his. I don't feel weary with his touch, just calm. A real calm. "Welcome to the family."


	6. AN

Alright guys. I'm SO very sorry. I know that I have a bad habit of starting a story, and then dropping it, but I swear that's not the case here. I've been very, very sick for the past week and a half, and I haven't had enough energy to really breathe, really, let alone write. I'm very sorry for the long wait, and I'm sorry that this isn't an update. I hope to have an update this week. And for the long wait, I'll make it longer than usual.

Thank you for sticking with me through this one guys. Being sick sucks, and not being able to write has torn at me a bit :/

Another thing; I'm going to update every week from now on. Not every day like I was before, but once a week. Probably every Friday night. Sound good? Let me know.

Love you guys :)


	7. Chapter 5: Down, Down, Down

**CHAPTER 5**

The small Mercedes glides along the empty highway smoothly. The whistle of the wheels on the road and thrum of the engine lull me into the space between dreams and reality, somewhere I'd rather not be. But today's happenings have drained my psyche, and I slowly drift further and further into the depths of my slumber.

_The hooded man loomed over me, cloaking me in darkness. Pain radiated through my neck where his hand gripped tightly and I choked out a strangled plea. The smell of alcohol coated his heavy, hot breath as he leaned close to me, the tip of his tongue grazing my cheek._

_His grip on my neck slowly loosened, and I gasped for air as he turned me around, my back toward him. My forehead slammed into the solid brick wall, and I became dizzy. _

_So very dizzy._

_One of his hands kept hold of my neck, pressing my face into the wall, while his other slowly crept down my back and under the hem of my pants. My vision started to cloud and I whimpered at the darkness that greeted me, relieved that I didn't have to experience this. _

_This moment... I could live without._

_The rough denim of my jeans gave way and scraped down my thighs, crumpling pathetically at my feet. His hands grappled at my panties roughly, and my hazed mind suddenly cleared. _

I need to get away.

_I jerked my shoulders back and forth feebly, pushing my hands against the rough bricks. I felt a sharp pain in the back of my knee when he kicked my leg out from under me, and threw my head up against the wall again._

_THUMP!_

I jerk awake suddenly, my hands fluttering around to steady myself.

_THUMP!_

"I apologize, Isabella. The road to our home is quite bumpy; plenty of potholes." Carlisle murmurs humbly from the front seat.

My breathing is ragged and my hands tremble as I press my fingers against the long scar cutting my eyebrow in half. The other rubs gently over my stomach. She flops around in my belly quickly, reminding me of a flittering butterfly. I press my hand against my belly button, willing her to calm down. After a moment of my firm massage, her quick jerks turn into soft nudges and I relax against the seat behind me.

_THUMP!_

The thick scar tissue on my forehead stings, and salty tears spill over the rims of my eyes, falling softly on my ever-growing chest.

I glare at my breasts intensely, willing them to shrink. I _know_ that being angry won't change what happened. I just can't help but abhor that sick bast-

"The robbed that smiles, steals something from the thief." I start and turn at the melodic sound of Edward's voice next to me; he hadn't spoken a word since our "conversation" in the hospital.

The wheels in my head turn slowly, trying to process his words.

"William Shakespeare," he mumbles, reading my eyes for a breath before turning his attention back toward the passing greenery.

I tilt my head to the side, assessing his slouched posture. He looks so meek, so defeated.

"Othello," I blurt. His eyes widen at the beautiful trees out the window, and his lips curl up on one side.

"I'm surprised," he turns to look at me, his crooked smile growing wryly. "Not many people know that one. It's usually Romeo and Juliet that people appreciate."

"I hate Romeo and Juliet." His eyes narrow curiously at the bitterness in my voice. "It just seems so... Pointless. I mean, why kill yourself over someone you just met? I suppose if she had known him for the entirety of her life, and vice versa, it might have made some sense. But it just... Doesn't." He nods thoughtfully, his eyes boring into my own. "There's only one thing I can truly understand from the entire tragedy."

"And what's that?" he asks inquisitively. I look down at my protruding abdomen, caressing the skin through my shirt.

"'My only love," I swallow thickly. "Sprung from my only hate'." I don't look back up at him, my eyes wetting once again.

I feel a his frigid finger tuck under my chin, pulling my face up toward his. He peers at me carefully for a moment, assessing my eyes thoughtfully. My eyebrows furrow at the pain I see reflected there, the understanding pupils and emerald irises of a beautiful and... _broken_ boy.

Not meek. Not defeated.

Broken.

_Edward is broken_.

My lungs fill with his warm breath as he leans closer, staring intently into my eyes. I want to pull away from the contact, away from the unfamiliar buzz radiating from his lone finger under my chin. But his tormented eyes stun me, and I can't help but keep my pupils locked with his. A sudden flutter in my stomach confuses me; it's not her. It's something else entirely. Something I've never felt before now.

He exhales deeply, blowing his intoxicating breath over my face. I take his scent in deeply, and completely relax as his forehead touches my own. My eyes drift shut after his and we breathe slowly for an eternal moment.

Suddenly, the subtle chill of his solid skin is gone, leaving a bitter cold in its wake. I blink and look around me, disoriented.

Edward pulls the handle quickly and jumps up out of the car gracefully. I watch in silent confusion before I realize that the car has stopped moving. I reached for the handle of my own door, but grasped at empty space when it is pulled away from me.

I look to see Carlisle peering at me with a furrowed brow, his lips turned down at the corners. His eyes flicker away for a moment, and I follow his stare to see Edward stalking up a set of large stairs toward an absolutely beautiful house.

"Whoa..." I murmur in awe, and jump when I hear a tinkling voice call my name.

"Gorgeous isn't it? Esme designed it. We built it from the ground up. It was one hell of a family project, that's for sure." The small girl jumps in front of Carlisle abruptly and bends over me to grab the small bag at my feet. As she straightens, she grabs my forearm excitedly, yanking me up with her. I yelp loudly at the ache that emanates from where her hand clutches at my sensitive skin. She recoils from me quickly, apologizing profusely.

A high-pitched shriek suddenly sounds around me, filling up my mind and screaming over every other sound.

I fall to my knees on the dirt below me, clutching my stomach tightly as the blood spreads around my body. I clench my eyes shut and press my hands over my ears, trying to drown out the scream, trying to ignore the blood that is splattered over the walls around me.

Chilled arms wrap around me suddenly, holding me tightly. Cool fingers lace through my own, and pull my hands away from my head.

_Look at me_. _Open your eyes and look at me, beloved._

My eyes fly open, meeting vivid green. I see my crazed reflection staring back through his pupils, wide eyes bloodshot, mouth open in loud gasps.

_You're here with me. You're safe. _His lips never move, but I hear his sweet voice in my ears, soothing my aching heart and throbbing head. _Breathe, my beloved. I'm here._

I feel a sudden prick in my arm, and I fall against his chest, mentally exhausted, physically drained. My fingers and toes start to numb, and I lay my head over his chest.

_Sleep, my beloved. I'll be here when you wake._

The numbness slowly travels up my legs and arms, toward my head. In my fuzzy and hazy state though, I realize that the skin below my ear doesn't throb, doesn't pulse. I try to concentrate fully on him, on his heart. I listen intently, but soon lose my train of thought and start searching through my clouded mind for what I am listening for.

Darkness slowly creeps into my vision at the edges, and I stare up at the setting sun with my head still resting on his silent chest.

_Silent_.

Panic rises in my throat as I drift away. But before it reaches the surface I fall slowly into nothingness, toward darkness and silence...

Silent.

_"Come here, Isabella." Victoria hooked her finger back, motioning for me to walk over to her. I stood in the doorway hesitantly and stared at the white powder clinging to the tip of her crooked finger. "Come _here_." She insisted impatiently, curling her finger repeatedly at me. I stepped over a discarded beer bottle, careful not to walk on the glass of a broken ashtray with my bare feet. The cracks in the hard-wood floor had my full attention as I sunk down onto the bare mattress on the floor next to Victoria._

_She placed her hand on my knee, squeezing gently, before trailing her fingers up my thigh slowly. Her other hand brought a black porcelain glass piece up toward my face, white powder, a rolled up dollar bill, and an old gift card laying on the edge. I stared blankly at the broken plate as the red headed woman's fingers drifted higher up my left, landing just beneath my hip._

_"Go on," she said. "You know you want to. You seemed to enjoy it last time." My breath caught in my throat as bile rose up my chest, but I pushed it back down quickly, inhaling deeply. Her hand massaged my thigh through my sweat pants and she placed an open mouthed kiss on my shoulder, her tongue flicking at my skin. _

_My stomach tightened as her fingers slithered closer toward the apex of my thighs. I snatch the tight bill off the plate, and press down on my left nostril as I lean forward, pushing the end of the paper into my nose. I breathe in deeply, flinching at the uncomfortable burn in my nose, then relaxing at the numb feeling in my face. _

_I pulled again through my right nostril, then fell back on the naked mattress, staring at the ceiling intensely as Victoria placed the plate on the floor in front of her. Her hand resumed its place on my thigh, rubbing back and forth softly before moving her fingers up under my thin tank top. _

_My heart started to quicken as she leaned over, lifting my shirt and pressing her lips just below my belly button._

_My fingers twitched as her lips crawled higher up my flat stomach. Once my shirt was off, she continued gracing my skin with her tongue and lips. _

_My vision started to shake and my eyes widened when her fingers hooked around the waistband of my pants, and my breath shuddered out of my lungs. _

_I reached up toward my head and pulled at my hair roughly when I felt her fingers at my most intimate place._

_Her breath fanned over my cheek as she touched me, and I shivered at the unwanted pleasure that pulsed from my center. She turned my head to the right abruptly, with her free hand, and pulled at my chin until my mouth popped open slightly. Her tongue snaked its way into my mouth and tangled with my own as I gasped. I whimpered and bit down lightly on her tongue when she hit a certain spot inside me._

_I felt her smirk against my mouth, and groaned in frustration. _

I hate this_._

_She curled her finger inside me again, and I was suddenly thrown off the cliff, up into the stars, and then I fell down, down, down._

I wake with a start in a soft, strange bed, blinking rapidly at the darkness that surrounds me. A heavy comforter covers my body up to my chest, creating an almost unbearable heat between the sheets. The gentle, constant thrum of a fan teases me from across the room.

Featherlike touches trace over my arm, creating pleasurable goose bumps over my skin. I turn toward the strange feeling.

The moonlight reflects off of his copper locks. It glimmers over his pale skin, making it almost white. His emerald eyes are downcast, and his lips are set in a permanent frown. His auburn eyebrows furrow in pain, and mine scrunch questioningly.

After a long silence, he finally speaks.

"Are you-" A crack in his words cause him to shift in his seat and clear his throat. "Are you okay?"

At my silent reply, he looks up to me. The vulnerability is easy to read when his eyes meet mine. I try my hardest not to let him see how unsettling his touch is, but he winces at the glare I give him, pulling away from me quickly. An abrupt emptiness radiates through my chest when his hands leave my arm.

"Where am I?" I ask. I reach down toward my stomach to comfort her, but a small tug stops my hand from moving any further. I turn to see an IV bag stands a few feet away, a small clear tube pulled tight between the pole and my bed. A heart monitor sits just below the IV bag, a green line pulsing up and down rapidly, but no noise comes from the speaker on the side of the screen.

"Your room." He says simply, shaking his head. "Bella, how _are_ you?" He insists.

"I'm f-" The word fine stuck in my throat at the harsh flicker in his eyes. "I've been better." I relent. Edward's breath _whooshes_ out of him, and his hands come up to rub his face vigorously. "What happened?" His head snaps up and his eyes lock on mine.

"You don't remember?" He questions frantically. I shake my head, lost. "What's the last thing you _do_ remember?"

I think for a moment, recalling my sickening dream, and the soft, cool touch of his skin against mine. Blush crawls up my neck, blooming throughout my face.

"I remember... Our talk... And when you got out of the car." I surmise, feeling unsure. I look toward him to see him searching my face. After a moment of contemplation, he nods, staring down at his hands.

"You had a panic attack when we got here. You fell and hit your head." His eyes fix on mine, and my brows furrow in embarrassment.

"I'm..." I sigh. "I'm sorry." My fingers lift toward my eyebrow, caressing the scar tissue imbedded in my forehead. Edward breathes deeply, quickly.

"When I was thirteen," he speaks swiftly, but in a hushed tone. "my mother and I were on the way to visit my father at work. The streets were really crowded because it was around Christmas time, and last minute shoppers were... well... last minute shopping." He chuckled somberly. "My mother... she was seven months pregnant, and had wanted to buy some baby clothing at a small boutique down the street from my father's building.

"She was so very excited about what she had bought that she couldn't wait for my father to come before she showed him. She was a very... forceful personality. But no one could say no to her - especially not me - because of what a wonderful woman she was." His eyes shine with the memories, and I listen intently, hanging onto every word.

The curves in his lips suddenly dropped, straightening into a tight line. "We weren't even a block away from his building when a man with a gun came up behind my mother, holding it to her head." His eyes harden, anger the only evident emotion. "She yelled at me to run, but he grabbed my arm, pulling me back toward him.

"He threatened to shoot me if she didn't give him everything she had with her; even the damned infant clothing." He scoffs at the absurdity, lost in his memory. "She froze, breathing loudly, and holding her stomach. She screamed abruptly - a sound I just... can't _ever_ forget - and fell to the ground on her knees. She was holding her head and rocking back and forth." He shakes his head, blinking rapidly. "That was the first panic attack I'd ever seen, and watching you just... _crumble_... it almost killed me to see that again." He pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, rubbing up and down.

I stay mute, focused on her random twitches in my belly.

"I'm sorry," he says finally. "I don't really know where that came from."

"Was she okay? Your mom, I mean." I murmur quietly, holding my breath until it hurts. His eyes snap up to mine, glassy and emotional.

"She died..." He takes a deep, shuddering breath. "He shot her twice in the head. _Right in front of me_." My own breath leaves in a shaking gasp, my lungs burning violently.

_I know that feeling. I know how he feels_.

The fingers of my free hand twitch, reaching for him softly, but the door across the room squeaking open steals my attention.

Carlisle walks in cautiously, Esme trailing behind him with a cramped tray in her hands. A cliché tea set takes up half of the board, steam lifting heavily from the delicate tea pot spout. Two small plates take up the other half of the tray, a single muffin sitting on each one. The tiny blue specs throughout the pastry give away its flavor, and I smile.

Blueberry is my favorite.

"Hello, Isabella." Carlisle's speaks loudly, but his voice still reminds me of gentle silk. "How are you feeling?" His cold fingers press down on my temples, poking and prodding my head until they reach the back of my neck. His hands curl around the sides of my neck, and he softly turns my head back and forth. "Does that hurt?" He asks tenderly. I try to shake my head, but his hands don't budge. I chuckle without humor.

"Nah, I feel fine." My eyes flicker to Edward, and see one of the small platters in his lap. His long fingers pluck the blue specks out of the bread, and he lifts every berry to his mouth individually, sucking the remnants off of each finger slowly.

My stomach flutters, and I blush.

Blueberry is my _favorite_.

Esme stands behind him, her hands running through his hair affectionately. He closes his eyes slowly, leaning into her hand and unwinding at her touch.

"- sound if you'd like?" I hear only the end of Carlisle's question, and ask him sheepishly to repeat what he said. He smiles. "I said that I would feel more comfortable if we did a quick check up on the little one." He gestures to my stomach. "We could do a quick ultrasound if you'd like?" I freeze immediately, focusing my attention of my swollen abdomen.

I haven't seen her in over a month.

I nod hesitantly, one hand resting on the top of my stomach and slowly curling my other fingers around the bottom of my enlarged tummy. My breath leaves me in a stiff puff.

"I would... Love to."


End file.
